


What rests between your spine and mine

by ghostofnoodlewrap



Series: Vaguely interconnected fics where Jon and Martin are kinky [5]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Foot Massage, I dedicate this fic to my back pain, M/M, Massage, Rimming, Roleplay, Shower Sex, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27423061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofnoodlewrap/pseuds/ghostofnoodlewrap
Summary: Jon has a sore back. Martin is here to help.(Reading previous parts of the series is not necessary, but highly welcomed.)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Vaguely interconnected fics where Jon and Martin are kinky [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808656
Comments: 50
Kudos: 203





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I managed to ignore this series for the entirety of kinktober... (I did get 40k of halloween fic out though).
> 
> CW for chapter 1:  
> -Jon's chest dysphoria is pretty severe in this chapter, and it is implied that has been wearing a binder for longer than what is generally considered to be a safe length of time.  
> -Massage with at least some expectation that it will turn sexual.  
> -Negotiation for said massage, particularly regarding how to deal with Jon's dysphoria during.

Martin ends up home before Jon. It happens. More often than he’d like to be honest, but Martin may actually be the second love of Jon’s life. The first always has been a love of hard work. Sometimes it does feel like he’s playing second fiddle, but Jon just isn’t easily distracted when he’s got himself into the zone.

Years ago, back when Martin’s bed was a tiny cot in the Archives, there were nights when he’d wake in the smallest hours of the morning and sometimes there would still be light seeping out from under Jon’s door. The first time, Martin thought the light had just been left on, and went to turn it off, only to find Jon still hunched over his desk.

At the time, he told Jon the light was keeping him awake. The next day Jon brough a load of old towels to stuff into the cracks between the door and the frame. He never remembered to use them though.

Martin can settle for being a bit of a house husband - put the laundry on, sweep the kitchen floor, get dinner ready to go in the oven. They have a rule - Jon has to be home for dinner. He owes Martin a little time in a non-work capacity and he knows to text as he leaves work so Martin makes sure dinner won’t be cold by the time he’s back.

It’s seven forty five by the time the front door opens. Martin’s been hovering, waiting for Jon. The commute must have been busier than expected, because he should have been back ten minutes ago. Martin goes to the door to greet him, gives him a kiss like it’s been days instead of hours since they saw each other.

“Sorry, love, the tube was delayed.” Jon says, rubbing at his neck.

“You’re forgiven.” Martin replies, and pecks him on the lips again. “Dinner will be ready in five. Why don’t you change out of your work clothes?”

Jon nods, and heads to the bedroom. It turns out that he only dresses like an English professor from last century in a professional capacity, and prefers comfortable baggy clothes at home. He has quite a collection of leisure wear and tracksuits, but increasingly Jon’s side of the wardrobe is filled with things he’s pilfered from Martin.

He comes back out as Martin is draining the veg, dressed in clothing that is as functional for sleeping as it is for relaxing. Jon lays the table while Martin fusses with the lasagna that’s been cooling on the side. A store bought one, because he’s only human, but it was half off when Martin popped into Tesco after work because it’s ‘use by’ is today. The dish it’s in isn’t half bad either. Might be worth salvaging even if the pasta turns out terrible.

Each of them get a thick slice of it, although Martin’s aware it’s more food than Jon will probably end up eating. But better to let his boyfriend eat a full meal, because if Martin didn’t insist, he’d still be at work and wouldn’t even bother with food. Or at least food of the physical kind that goes into his stomach. There are other ways for Jon to eat.

Jon shovels food into his mouth almost absent mindedly as he pores over the sections of the morning paper he didn’t get to at breakfast. Martin is content to just watch his partner as he eats. Watching the track of fork to mouth and the other hand alternating between turning the next page and rubbing at his neck.

“Are you okay, love?” Martin asks.

“I’ve been craning over my desk all day and now my neck is all crunchy.” Jon replies.

“I’m not sure ‘crunchy’ is a word that should apply to spines.” Martin says.

“It’s just a sore back.” Jon says.

“Would a back rub help?” Martin asks. “I could give you a massage after dinner.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” Jon says. He cuts a neat square from his lasagna and shoves it into his mouth.

“I really don't mind.” Martin says. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“It depends,” Jon licks his lips, “on where you want to take it. Massages, they involve a lot of touching and-”

“And they tend to turn you on.” Martin finishes. “I forgot that you told me that. Sorry.” He sighs. “If you’re not in the mood, we don’t have to.”

“I think I’d end up in the mood.” Jon says. “And my back would really appreciate it. It’s just, well, I’m not having the best day with my body today.”

Martin knows, objectively, that the level of Jon’s dysphoria fluctuates from day to day. Some days he can flounce around the flat buck naked and be fine, although he won’t preen in front of a mirror or anything. Other days Martin can’t even give him a hug without Jon trying to squirm out of it. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell where on the scale Jon lies.

Jon’s still in his binder this evening, despite dressing in loose and comfortable clothes. Martin doesn’t know if he took a break from it at lunch, but that’s still going on eleven or twelve hours today. He only tends to bind at home when the dysphoria is bad.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.” Martin says.

Jon shakes his head. “It isn’t as bad as that. I just don’t want to get my chest out today and this doesn’t work otherwise.”

“With all due respect, I think you need a break from binding.” Martin says. “If you lie down on your stomach, I won’t see anything. Or you could keep your shirt on. I don’t have oil or anything to use.”

“You’ll stop if I ask you to?” Jon asks. He pushes his plate away, done. Martin steals the last three bites of lasagna, because that’s just not enough for leftovers.

“Always.” Martin replies.

“Okay.” Says Jon. “After we clean up after dinner though?”

“Sure.” Martin says. “You wash, I’ll dry?”

Cleaning dishes might be one of Martin’s favourite chores, only because he gets to stand hip to hip with Jon when they do it most of the time. There’s a dishwasher in the flat, but it’s too small to really be that useful, although it does take care of the plates. Sometimes they’ll put on music while they work and Jon ends up scrubbing in time to the beat, although he denies it if it’s ever brought up.

“Just leave that to soak.” Martin says when Jon gets onto the last item - the lasagna dish which still has bits of tacky pasta and burned sauce stuck to it. “Go get ready while I tidy the rest of this away?”

“Sure.” Jon says. He leans up to kiss Martin. He smells like washing up liquid.

Martin could dry the remaining dishes faster than he is, but he knows that Jon needs a little time to prepare himself. Still, there’s not much to procrastinate with. A damp tea towel is only going to get them so dry.

A few minutes later finds Martin knocking on the doorframe to their shared bedroom. The door is open a crack, but he doesn’t try to peek in. “Are you ready yet?” Martin asks.

“Just a second.” Jon calls back. Martin waits until he hears the bedsprings sigh softly. Then Jon says “you can come in now.”

Martin walks in. Jon is sat on the bed. His clothing is the same as before, but his binder is on the floor, half kicked under the bed. Or at least Martin thinks it’s the one he was wearing earlier. Jon’s undergarments do have a habit of finding every little nook and cranny in their bedroom to occupy.

“Should I lie down, then?” Jon asks.

Martin shakes his head. “If I’m doing your neck it will be easier if you sit. Otherwise you’re going to have to turn your head. Or attempt to breath through a pillow.”

Martin climbs onto the other side of the bed and shuffles his way over to Jon, who is giving him a look which betrays exactly how ridiculous Martin looks right now. It probably would have been easier for Martin to take his position first and just get Jon to slot into the gap made, but it’s too late for that now. And once he’s across the expanse of bed and spreading his legs either side of Jon’s hips the results are the same anyway.

“Okay?” Martin asks. Jon looks pretty tense, but that is the issue they’re trying to solve here.

“Sure.” Jon replies.

Martin lifts his hands, strokes lightly across the tense set of Jon’s shoulders. When he presses his thumbs into the column of Jon’s spine there’s a crunch and a couple of all-out pops.

“I told you it’s crunchy.” Jon says.

“Did that hurt?” Martin asks.

“It’s not exactly _pain_.” Jon says. “Do it again?”

When Martin presses his fingers back into that spot, there’s no more crunching noise. Not until he moves to a different section of Jon’s neck, but each time is the same: a couple of joints pop, then the noises stop.

Martin moves further down, digs the heel of his hand into a meatier area of Jon’s back. He is, categorically, full of knots. Jon grunts as Martin rubs at him.

“Does it hurt?” Martin asks.

“In a good way.” Jon confesses. “Like poking a bruise to see how healed it is.”

Martin hums and continues the massage. The hard line Jon’s shoulders were set into at the start of this starts to slip into something looser. There’s still plenty of knots to chase away, and Jon doesn’t stay quiet as Martin does.

They’re sounds Martin has heard before, but it was in a much less platonic setting than this. Not that this is set to stay entirely platonic. Still, when Jon starts outright moaning, it brings a flush to Martin’s face, and that’s not the only place blood rushes to.

Martin moves back to the top of Jon’s back. There’s a couple of spots either side of his neck that make Jon hiss when Martin digs his fingers in. Martin can feel how hard and tense the muscle under the skin is in those spots and withdraws his hands quickly.

“Sore?” Martin asks.

“Yes. Those are my...” Jon replies, and there’s a look on his face as he draws up knowledge that wasn’t in his head before. “My levator scapulae. They get stretched when you hunch over.”

Martin murmurs a response that is perhaps not formed of real words, but the soothing tone is apparent. He maps out the size and shape of the sore muscle both from feeling what’s tense beneath Jon’s skin, and which spots make Jon flinch as he lightly taps with his fingertips. There’s one on each side of Jon’s neck, from a few inches to the left and right of the base of his neck, then up the back of it.

Jon still winces as Martin works the muscles loose and supple. He makes noises too, but these are more tinged with pain than the moans he was making earlier. But eventually those too subside and the tension abates under Martin’s careful hands.

“Better?” Martin asks.

“Much.” Jon replies.

Jon makes no move to end the massage, so Martin makes no move to stop. He’s more relaxed now, softer. Martin finds himself returning to areas he’s already touched (although let’s be honest, where hasn’t he touched Jon in the past?) and listening as he sighs in pleasure as Martin rubs him the right way.

Eventually though Martin runs out of back he can feasibly massage. He sets his hands still on the gentle slope of Jon’s shoulders. “How is that?” Martin asks.

“Good.” Jon replies. “We can leave it there, or you could do my legs, too?”

“Are they sore too?” Martin asks.

“Not really, but I’d appreciate the attention, especially if you want to, you know-”

“Oh! Did that get you in the mood?”

“A bit, yeah.” Jon says. “I won’t be pent up if we don’t, but working me up further isn’t going to be hard. I mean, did that do anything for you?”

Martin’s hands tighten on Jon’s shoulders. “You made some very nice noises when I touched you.”

“I could just use my mouth if you don’t want to wait?” Jon says.

“I think,” Martin replies, “that you should lie down so that I can get at your legs.”

Jon gets up, but when he turns to face Martin he’s smiling. He leans down to kiss Martin, probably undoing a lot of Martin’s hard work. “Move, so that I can get up.” He says while he shucks off the clothes on his bottom half.

Jon settles himself down on the bed, a pillow under his head, his chin turned to the side. His legs are bare and slightly apart and if Martin positions himself right he can see straight up them to a shadowy crevice hidden underneath his baggy t-shirt. Martin gulps when he sees that view.

Martin starts off sat at the foot of the bed. He takes Jon by the ankle and lifts one foot into his lap. He starts with the top of Jon’s foot rubbing from the toes down, while the other hand massages from ankle to heel. Jon’s ankle relaxes as he gets used to the sensation.

Feet aren’t exactly a thing for Martin, and Jon has said they’re not really sexual for him either, but Martin supposes that doesn’t stop a foot rub from feeling good. Jon hasn’t exactly got a job that keeps him on his feet all day, but there’s more in and out of document storage than you might think.

Jon does moan when Martin pushes his thumbs into his instep, right up under the ball off his foot. It isn’t a sound of pain, or at least not entirely, so Martin doesn’t ask if he should stop. He does Jon’s toes next, then the heel before swapping feet and repeating the process.

“Still feeling good?” Martin asks.

Jon nods. “Mmmm…” He manages after a moment or so. “Words are… hard.” 

“That’s okay.” Martin says, moving to manipulate Jon’s ankle. “Just relax.”

He moves from Jon’s ankle up to his calves. There’s a little tenseness here, but it flees under the ministrations of Martin’s fingers. Martin moves to straddle Jon, because he just doesn’t have the reach he needs to to touch Jon like he wants to. Like he’s going to.

When Martin gets up to Jon’s knees, his legs separate a little bit more and it’s a suggestion that he might like to feel Martin’s hands up between them. Martin slides his hands firmly up the backs of Jon’s thighs, and Jon moans in response. But he only gets halfway before meeting the fabric of Jon’s t-shirt.

Martin traces the hem of the fabric on the back of Jon’s legs just firmly enough that it won’t tickle. “Jon?” He asks.

“Yeah?” Jon replies. He sounds slightly strangled.

“Can I lift this up?” Martin punctuates the question by sliding a finger underneath the t-shirt.

“Just up to my waist.” Jon replies.

Martin pulls the fabric up and folds it over, revealing the rest of Jon’s thighs and the swell of his arse. The excess fabric bunches in the dip of Jon’s waist.

When Martin pushes his palm into the small of Jon’s back, he moans. There’s tension there, just like there was further up and between his shoulders. Martin keeps going until he can feel the knots there slip away. Then he lets his hand slip lower.

Martin Blackwood is of the opinion that Jonathan Sims has a fantastic arse. Of course, this is largely influenced by the fact that said arse is attached to notorious arse Jonathan Sims, and Martin is not ashamed to admit his bias. But his boyfriend is blessed with a nice bum. The curve of it fits nicely under his palm and it’s got enough substance about it to bounce pleasantly when it’s slapped - not that this scene really calls for that.

There’s nothing to stop him from digging his fingers into it, so Martin does. There don’t appear to be any knots in this area of Jon’s body, but he really should do a thorough inspection just to be sure. Running his hands all over it and giving Jon’s arse a thorough massage doesn’t reveal any tense areas, but it does make Jon moan, so Martin chalks it up as a win.

He separates Jon’s cheeks and looks at that tight little hole. Jon’s arse is bloody edible and Jon must know what he’s thinking of, because the pucker of his arsehole twitches as Martin stares at it. Rimming him or fingering Jon open so that he can slip inside is a tempting idea, but the way Jon has been moaning means Martin has not gone unaffected and he’s honestly not sure he can wait that long.

Martin slides his hands down to the tops of Jon’s thighs. He’s already spread out enough that Martin doesn’t have to nudge his legs apart to get his hands between them. Jon shivers as Martin strokes him, the pretence of the massage mostly faded away.

“Please…” Jon says.

“What do you want, love?” Martin asks.

“Touch me.” Jon pleads.

“Like this?” Martin says, and he rubs at Jon’s inner thighs again.

“Higher.” Jon says.

Martin moves his hands further up, lets his thumbs brush over the lines on either side of Jon’s body where leg meets hip. “Here?” He asks.

“No.” Jon says. “Martin, _please_!”

He moves one of his hands until it frames either side of the seam down the centre of Jon’s pelvis. The skin here is soft and very warm. A little damp, but not near enough to Jon’s centre to be properly slicked. “Here?” Martin asks.

“Martin!” Jon says sternly, and Martin laughs and slips his hand to where Jon actually wants him to be.

Jon is wet there, when Martin dips his fingers into his slit. He’s still too tight to get more than a single finger into now, and even that has to go in slowly. Jon’s cunt appears to be the only part of his body where there’s still tightness. Martin works his finger in slowly and begins to get Jon a little more open. He slicks up his thumb with some of the excess fluid dripping from him and presses it to Jon’s clit.

Jon sighs in pleasure, but his hips don’t twitch or roll like they normally would under attention like this. His cunt flutters around Martin’s finger as he twists it back and forth.

“Is this okay?” Martin asks.

Jon gives a breathy sigh. “I’m too blissed out to move.” He says. “Feels good.”

“You can be a pillow princess today, love.” Martin says, and he slides a second finger into Jon now that he’s got him wet and open. “Let me take care of you.”

Martin stretches Jon out slowly, alternating between scissoring his fingers out and dragging his fingertips down the front wall of his cunt. He keeps a log of every gentle sigh and moan Jon makes as he gets closer to the edge. Martin’s hand does cramp up a little, especially keeping his thumb in position so that it can brush over Jon’s clit, but it’s worth it for Jon’s sake.

“Just like that.” Jon says a few thrusts after Martin changes his angle of entry.

Martin keeps his pace steady, does his best to keep hitting the spots that make Jon shiver. It must work, because the soft whining noises Jon has been making become constant. There’s a slight tremor in his legs before his cunt spasms around Martin’s fingers as he comes.

Martin fingers him through the aftermath until Jon’s breathing evens back out and he sinks bonelessly back into the bed. His fingers are wet and pruned when he draws them back out of Jon’s body.

“Are you up to being fucked?” Martin asks. Jon normally prefers to come more than once, but he already looks on the verge of sleep.

“Please.” He says. He spreads his legs slightly more open, and Martin strokes down the back of his thigh in appreciation.

“I won’t be a minute.” Martin says. He kisses Jon’s shoulder blade before climbing off the bed. Jon does not react.

Martin strips off his remaining clothes in front of the nightstand. He fishes a condom out of the top drawer, opens the packet, and rolls it on. Then he searches the other drawers for something that might help Jon get off again.

Most of their toys are stored under the bed, but a few miscellaneous items always seem to end up in the nightstand. The box on the top of it is empty because this scene wasn’t planned, but Martin only really wants something which vibrates, and they have enough toys which do that. In the second drawer he finds a massage wand and that will do nicely.

“Can you lift your hips up, love?” Martin asks.

Jon groans, but he does let Martin manipulate him. He slots one of the spare pillows underneath Jon’s hips, lifting him up enough that Martin has more than half a hope of being able to get inside him. He slots the wand under Jon’s body, presses the head of it up against Jon’s clit.

Martin takes Jon’s hand and brings it to wrap around the handle of the toy. “This might help you, love.” He says.

Jon’s thumb slips over the silicone coating of the toy until he finds the engraved buttons and turns the thing on. He sighs in pleasure as it buzzes to life against him and Martin supposes now is the time to get inside Jon before he gets too carried away.

Jon takes him easily. The echoes of the vibrating toy are strong enough that Martin can feel them quivering through Jon’s flesh, but that’s muted by the way Jon clenches down around him. Jon’s warm on the inside, and the line of his back is warm too, even through his t-shirt, as Martin leans over to bury his head in Jon’s neck.

Martin doesn’t expect to last long, but Jon quivers apart beneath him before he’s close to coming. It’s mind-wrenchingly good to feel him tighten and spasm like that, and if Martin were any closer that would be the end. When the vibrator flicks off, Martin slows his strokes and prepares to pull out, aware that more might just be too much for Jon right now.

“Keep going.” Jon tells him.

“You’re sure?” Martin asks.

“Yes.” Jon replies. “I can take it. My clit just needs a little rest.”

Martin nods, and begins thrusting again, shallowly at first, but when Jon doesn’t change his mind, he goes back to the longer deeper strokes he was using before. After a couple of minutes of this, the vibrator clicks back on.

“Going for three?” Martin asks, fully aware that Jon is capable of that providing he doesn’t fall asleep first.

Jon hums non-committedly. “Just feels good.” He says. “You feel good.”

That makes Martin grip Jon’s hips a little harder. He can feel the end approaching. He sinks in as far as he can, grinds into Jon nicely and relishes in the way it makes Jon moan. Then his hips are stuttering and he empties himself into the condom.

He stays in Jon until it starts to become uncomfortable and pulls out before it gets to the point where the condom is in danger of slipping off. It wouldn’t do to make a mess now.

“How’re you doing?” Martin asks. The massage wand is still on and Jon doesn’t look like he’s ready to stop anytime soon. He rubs soothingly at the small of Jon’s back.

“I want to come.” Jon says.

“Want a helping hand? Or mouth?” Martin asks.

“Please.” Jon replies.

He fills Jon’s empty cunt with a couple of fingers, then decides to add a third now that Jon’s been stretched out by some cock. With his free hand, Martin gropes a little at Jon’s arsecheeks before spreading them out. He presses a line of kisses towards Jon’s crack, giving him time to voice a protest if this isn’t what he wants.

But Jon doesn’t tell him to stop after that little warning. So Martin lays a kiss right over Jon’s pert little hole before beginning to lave his tongue over it. It twitches with every stroke Martin makes, and he can feel the echoes of that in every clench Jon’s cunt makes around his fingers.

“Oh God…” Jon sighs.

Martin’s mouth is already occupied, so he can’t give the ‘no, just me’ response that would make Jon groan in the wrong way. He can tell that Jon is getting close now. His hole has relaxed enough that Martin can slip his tongue inside and give Jon the tongue-fucking that he deserves.

“Oh.” Jon says again. “ _Oh_! Martin, I’m coming!”

And he does so in short order. A pretty intense one too, from the way both his holes start clenching. Jon rolls his hips down onto the vibrator as he comes.

Afterwards, Jon clicks the massager off, and this time it really is the cue for Martin to pull out of both his holes.

“Satisfied?” Martin asks. “Don’t think that you have to be done just because I’ve already come.”

“No, I’m tapping out.” Jon says. “I’m tired and can barely bring myself to move.”

Martin hums in response. He takes the condom off, ties it and drops in the bin by the bed. Then Jon’s still lying by his side, so who is there to tell him to resist touching his boyfriend? He runs a hand soothingly up and down Jon’s back with just enough pressure to ensure it doesn’t tickle. Jon’s breath evens out, long and slow.

“Are you falling asleep?” Martin asks after Jon fails to move at all after several minutes.

Jon makes a grumpy tired grumble in response.

“Do you want to get a UTI?” Martin asks. “And you’re just going to wake up because you’re cold if you go to sleep half naked on top of the covers.”

Jon grumbles again, and he doesn’t make a move to get up until Martin nudges him. Twice. He rolls his shoulders after he gets up and startles.

“What?” Martin asks.

“Nothing popped.” Jon says.

“What do you know, I’ve got magic hands.”

They go into the bathroom together and Jon sits on the toilet while Martin brushes his teeth. Some couples would think this is crossing a line, but when you’ve watched each other pick worms out of their own flesh the bar is somewhat lowered.

“Are you coming to bed?” Jon asks when he comes to stand beside Martin to wash his hands.

“I’m not tired yet,” Martin says, “but I’ll lie with you if you don’t mind me keeping a light on.”

Martin holds the covers back for Jon to get into bed. He begins to tuck him in before remembering his promise and climbing in beside Jon. Martin stays mostly sat up against the headboard and Jon curls up along Martin’s side with his hand across Martin’s stomach.

Martin has never been one for reading quite to the level that Jon is, but he can appreciate a good book. The one bookmarked and sat on the nightstand is something that Jon has been reading, but the blurb doesn’t look too bad, so Martin starts it, careful that Jon’s bookmark doesn’t slip out.

By the time he’s finished the first chapter, Jon is asleep and snoring softly. “I love you.” Martin says. Sometimes, it’s okay not to expect an answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> -Blowjob/deep-throating  
> -Kink negotiation  
> -Jon brings up the possibility of him wearing lingerie, which he says he is comfortable with

Jon’s still asleep when Martin wakes. By Martin’s count, he’s been under for roughly twelve hours by now. Jon’s like that - passing on sleep in favour of ‘more important things’ when they arise, then crashing and oversleeping when there’s time to spare. Objectively, Martin knows that the whole ‘catching up on your sleep’ doesn’t really work, but goddamn if Jon doesn’t try.

It’s midmorning on a Saturday though. Nothing for Jon to get up for. Nowhere for Jon to be. He’s rolled away from Martin in the night and has ended up taking a pillow hostage in his arms the same way he sometimes does to one of Martin’s limbs.

Jon probably won’t sleep for that much longer. It’s sunny outside, even if there’s a chill to the air, and their curtains are a bit shit at shutting the light out. Soon enough the little sliver in the middle of the curtains is going to fall across the bed and Martin knows it’s bound to wake Jon.

So Martin himself might as well get up, not necessarily get dressed, but at least start making Jon a nice breakfast. His boyfriend deserves pampering some of the time (or, well, all of the time, but that would just make Jon complain of feeling smothered, so there are sacrifices that have to be made).

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes in front of the bathroom mirror. He has to focus a little as he stands and pees, because the stream is forked thanks to his morning wood. He turns the shower on without thinking about it, but if that ends up waking Jon, that’s a gentle way to do it.

The water is warm, and Martin stands the requisite five and a half minutes standing in the stream trying to work out the meaning of the universe before giving up and moving on to washing his hair. Normal showering routine.

He’s just worked the shampoo to a lather when there’s a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Martin tries not to yell, but he also has to be loud enough for Jon to hear him over the water and through the door. After all, it’s difficult to hear what people are saying when there’s a door in the way.

“Hey, do you mind if I, um, join you?” Jon asks.

“Oh, sure.” Martin says. “I don’t think the door is locked.” In fact, he knows it’s not. Jon sometimes locks the bathroom door, but Martin often doesn’t bother because Jon is mostly welcome in situations like these. And they both know that the bathroom door being closed means ‘occupied.’

He can’t leave the bathroom door open to say ‘you’re welcome to join me’ though, because the steam would set off the fire alarm. That certainly would be a rude awakening for Jon.

Jon opens the door, blinks a couple of times, still sleep rumpled, before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He strips off the shirt he slept in and leaves it on the lid of the toilet (the shower seems to leak no matter what they try and elevation is the best way to stop your clothes from getting wet), leaving only a black hair elastic around his wrist as anything even close to clothing. Martin hopes Jon is okay with him staring, because he stares.

“What?” Jon says.

“Nothing. A devastatingly handsome man just walked into the bathroom, asked if he could share my shower, and stripped naked before my eyes.” Martin replies.

“And where is this man?” Jon asks. “I didn’t realise I’d have to fend rival suitors off with a stick.”

Martin laughs. “Get in here.”

Jon slides the door open and there’s a little rush of cold air against Martin’s back until Jon presses up against him. Jon’s arms curl around Martin and he can feel Jon’s face pressed between his shoulder blades, the slight scratch of his stubble on Martin’s skin. It’s nice to feel Jon there. Nice enough that Martin’ morning wood, which had been flagging, begins to twitch its way back to a full erection.

“You didn’t have to get out of bed if you’re still tired.” Martin says.

“I’m not tired.” Jon replies. Which means this display is because he’s annoyed that Martin got out of bed too early and denied him the opportunity of morning cuddles. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“Then would you mind making yourself useful and washing my back please?” Martin asks.

“Sure.” Jon agrees. “Pass me some stuff will you?”

Martin hands a bottle of shower gel and a loofa over his shoulder. They don’t clatter to the floor, so Martin presumes Jon takes them. The assumption is proven correct when he feels Jon begin to wash him.

Jon does his whole back while Martin focusses on rinsing his hair out and cleaning his front. Jon doesn’t stop with his back and carries on down to wash Martin’s buttocks. Martin yelps and turns around as Jon slips between his cheeks.

Jon laughs. He wraps his arms around Martin’s neck and Martin just knows he’s angling for a kiss and takes it upon himself to deliver one. Jon’s morning breath isn’t great, but Martin supposes they’re on equal footing there, so it can slide. He kisses Jon soundly, enjoying the warm wet press of him against his body.

Some parts of Martin are apparently enjoying it a bit more thoroughly than others, and Martin knows Jon has noticed when one of his hands wraps around the base of Martin’s cock.

“What’s this in aid of?” Jon asks.

“I dunno.” Martin teases. “Might have something to do with you being in here.”

Jon laughs. “Do you want a blow job?” He asks.

“Oh! Do you want-” Martin reaches out a hand, not exactly sure where he should touch Jon to convey what he means.

Jon shakes his head. “I don’t want anything in return, not after last night.”

“Don’t feel obliged.” Martin says.

“I don’t mind.” Jon says. “I’m not going to punish you for having a more active libido than me. And I still enjoy getting you off.”

“If you’re sure.” Martin says, because it’s really not his intention to pressure Jon.

“I could leave you alone to come in your hand, but I think you’d much rather come down my throat, wouldn’t you?” Jon says.

“Jesus, Jon. Yes.” Martin replies.

“And you made me feel so good last night.” Jon rubs a hand over Martin’s hip while the other strokes him up and down nice and slow. “I think you deserve to feel good, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” Martin replies.

“So what do you say?”

“Please suck my cock.” Martin says.

Jon smiles, so that must be the right answer. “Good boy.” He says. He isn’t the most graceful getting down on his knees, but the shower is slippery and the floor fairly unforgiving.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Martin asks. It’s barely more than a whisper. Barely audible over the hiss of the water.

“Keep my hair out of my face for me, please.” Jon replies.

Martin uses both hands to brush the locks back from where the water has them stuck to Jon’s face. As he does, Jon catches Martin’s right hand and presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Martin blushes, but he doesn’t move away. If he doesn’t keep his hands tangled in Jon’s hair then it’s going to flop back forwards and he knows Jon doesn’t want that.

Jon kisses his hipbones, licks over the line where leg and hip meets. Then he moves, and Martin thinks he’s going for his cock, but Jon circumnavigates that and his mouth lands on Martin’s thighs instead. He kisses a little trail there before finding a spot where he decides to suck a little mark onto Martin’s skin.

“Jon…” Martin whines. His fingers tighten slightly in Jon’s hair. 

“Mmmm?” Jon looks up at him through his lashes, but he doesn’t detach his mouth from the inside of Martin’s thigh. His hand slides back and cups Martin’s balls.

“Please Jon.” Martin says.

“What do you want?” Jon asks. He’s smiling. He knows what he’s doing, knows what it’s doing to Martin.

“Please suck my cock.” Martin begs.

He can feel the little huff of air Jon makes against the damp patches on his legs. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Jon says.

But Jon doesn’t take his length into his mouth immediately. He presses a few sloppy kisses under the crown before starting to lick up Martin’s shaft. The pressure is nice, but it isn’t enough. Jon’s hand rolls his balls before slipping even further back and Martin moans as Jon presses his knuckles up against his perineum.

“Jon, please!” Martin sobs. “Please, I want it so badly.”

That finally (finally!) gets Jon to wrap his lips around the head of Martin’s cock. He suckles on the head of it, runs his tongue over the slit before swirling it around the ridge of the crown. Then he takes Martin deeper into his mouth and begins to suck as he bobs up and down.

Martin does his best to hold his hips still, because it’s clear that Jon is the one in control here. He’s just got to take whatever Jon chooses to give him. And he’s good at it too. It would be easy for Jon to get him off quick and dirty, but he’s made the choice to draw it and tease Martin.

The fingers pressed into his gooch slip further back to prod at his entrance. Jon strokes him there gently and Martin sobs. This would be so much better with Jon’s fingers inside him. Martin wants. Martin wants very much indeed.

“Please.” He whispers.

Jon hums his question around Martin’s cock, and Martin swears.

“I want your fingers, Jon.”

Jon pulls off, and Martin briefly considers using his grip on Jon’s head to just push him back down. But that would be rude. Even if he really wants Jon’s mouth back on him.

“There’s no lube in here.” Jon says. “Unless you’re okay with me using…” Martin watches him look up at the array of bottles. There is a conditioner that _might_ work, but really, nothing is suitable. There’s something else in here that would work better.

“In the medicine cabinet.” Martin says. “Bottom shelf, back left corner.”

Jon raises his eyebrows, but he also clambers back up to his feet. Martin lets his hands run through Jon’s hair as he moves, and they fall to his sides once Jon’s stood up. Jon kisses his cheek. “Stay right there for just a minute, okay love?”

Martin reads into the instruction that it is. Don’t move, and do not touch yourself. Wait for Jon to get back. Martin nods.

Jon steps out of the shower and Martin watches the goosebumps bloom across his shoulders in the colder air. He walks over to the medicine cabinet. The door is already half open and the mirror on the front of it is fogged. Jon roots around inside it until he comes back with a little bottle.

“Any reason there’s lube in the bathroom?” Jon asks.

“It’s silicone-based.” Martin tries weakly. “I didn’t want it getting mixed up and used with the silicone toys.”

“Sure.” Says Jon. He does not sound convinced. “No other reason for having lube in the bathroom?”

Martin stays silent and Jon just laughs. He gets back into the shower, takes his place in front of Martin again. Martin stands there with his hands still at his sides until Jon sighs happily and places them back on his head.

“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Martin accuses.

“Not sexually,” Jon says, “but I’m _certainly_ enjoying myself.”

Martin hears the cap on the bottle pop and looks down to see Jon slicking up a couple of his fingers. Or rather, he looks down to see his hands on Jon’s head, whose face is only centimeters away from the hard line of Martin’s cock, and Jon also happens to be spreading lube on his fingers so that he can penetrate Martin. Happier sights there are not.

Jon takes Martin back in his mouth while he lets the lube warm. It’s more of a tease now, just some gentle slurps on the head. Jon has a goal and he doesn’t want Martin coming before he can get to it. His fingers are still cool in comparison to the shower when he presses them back onto Martin’s anus.

Martin tenses, but Jon just rubs him through it and keeps sucking on his cock until he relaxes. Then, and only then, does a finger find its way into him.

It’s only to the first knuckle, and Jon pulls off for a moment. “Is that okay?” He asks.

“Yes.” Martin replies. “Please give me more.”

Jon smiles, but he must agree with Martin for he begins to work his finger deeper into Martin with brutal efficiency until it’s sunk in as far as it can go. Then he begins to thrust, and Martin himself punctuates it with breathy little _ah-ah-ahs_ to the rhythm Jon uses on him. Jon’s stopped sucking his dick, the head of it sort of resting against his open lips. Martin’s glad of that, elsewise he’d end up coming much quicker than he intended to.

After a little while, Jon deems him loose enough to push a second finger into. He slows the eager press of his fingers to let Martin get used to the stretch. It’s nicer with two fingers. Jon begins to brush against Martin’s prostate with every thrust he makes.

“Alright?” Jon asks.

“Perfect.” Martin replies when he has a moment to get a word together. He’s pretty sure he’d be unable to form a full sentence right now.

Jon takes him properly back into his mouth and Martin swears. This time he doesn’t bother with any fine artistry swirling his tongue around the head of Martin’s cock, just sinks down on it. And down. And down, right to the point where Martin can feel the end of his cock hitting the back of Jon’s throat.

They’ve tried this before, just never got this right.

“Don’t force yourself.” Martin warns.

Jon doesn’t try to back off. He only gags a little, which is much better than the first few times they tried this. Martin watches as Jon forces himself to relax and he feels the back of Jon’s throat flutter for a moment before it opens up and Jon slides him in.

Martin swears, can’t help it with the way Jon swallows around his cock. But Jon has taken him to the root and he can feel stubble on his stomach.

There’s not much of the horrible gagging noise made when people do this in porn, which Martin has always found upsetting. Yes, there’s some noise and motion, but mostly he just sits in Jon’s throat while getting fucked by Jon’s fingers. At this point either could bring him off.

Jon’s face is slack, relaxed. There’s no snotty, teary face, although he is drooling pretty uncontrollably. Martin can live with that.

Jon pulls off abruptly and takes a moment to gasp for breath. But once he’s done with that, he looks back up at Martin smiling.

“I finally did it!” He says.

“Sure did -oh, fuck, _keep going_.” They’ve been trying on the deepthroating thing for a while now. The second part is in response to the way Jon’s fingers skate over his prostate. “Any chance you want to try it again? Like, right this second?” Martin asks.

“Just needed to breathe.” Jon confirms. He wraps his lips back over the head of Martin’s cock.

“Please, Jon. I’m so close.”

Jon swallows him down, uses whatever tricks he used the last time to relax enough for Martin to push through that final barrier. The feeling of Jon’s throat convulsing around him is too much, especially when combined with the fingers pushing against his prostate. Martin comes with a shudder and a groan.

Jon’s eyes are watering a bit by the time Martin has shot and started to soften. He pulls out and this time Jon doubles over spluttering. 

“Shit.” Martin says. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Says Jon after a moment. “Deep-throating isn’t exactly renowned for being easy.”

“But you’re-”

“I’m _fine_.” Jon says.

Martin looks down at Jon. “Do you, uh, want anything in return?” He asks.

“Just a kiss.” Jon says. “And help getting back up.”

Martin takes Jon’s outstretched arms and helps him back to his feet, ignoring the urge to make a comment about having old man bones. Once Jon is back up, he kisses him soundly, damn the taste. To be honest, the morning breath is the worst part of it.

Jon doesn’t really need any help washing, but he doesn’t turn down Martin’s very transparent offer either. It’s a convenient excuse to be able to touch his naked boyfriend all over. Not even for a sexual reason either. Well, mostly. Sometimes it’s just nice to engage in touch.

After the shower, Jon dries himself while Martin brushes his teeth. There’s really only enough room around the sink for one and they’ll swap over in a moment’s time.

“Come back to bed.” Jon says. “It’s too early to be up.”

“It’s gone ten, Jon!” Martin says around a mouthful of foam.

“And it’s a Saturday.” Jon replies. “I don’t get up until I’m hungry and I’m not hungry yet.”

“What are you doing in here then?” Martin teases once he’s spat out the toothpaste. He rinses his mouth out and makes room at the sink for Jon.

“You’re in here.” Jon says. “I want to stay in bed _with_ you.”

“There’s so much we could do if we got up - clean the flat up, go out to the market, have a walk in the park.” Martin says.

“It’s going to start pouring with rain in twenty minutes.” Jon informs him, “My counteroffer is you and me, in bed, naked, copious amounts of cuddles.”

“You drive a very hard bargain.” Martin says seriously. “I don’t think I have any choice but to accept. Are you, um, okay with naked cuddles?”

He knows that Jon doesn’t really like parading around buck naked. Most days, at least. When bathing, there isn’t really another option, but Jon often doesn’t feel comfortable enough to get naked even during sex.

Jon hums. “I think I’ll be fine so long as I stay under the covers, and I’ll move your hands if you touch me somewhere I don’t want.” (Which Martin knows is code for ‘do not try and touch my chest’).

Jon wraps his towel around him before walking back to bed, but he drops it before getting in. Martin follows him. Breakfast can wait for a bit. Martin can sate his skin-hunger first.

It’s pleasant. The early morning sunshine has clouded over and there’s a bit of a chill in the air, but the heavy duvet chases that away. Jon helps too - he’s always run warmer than Martin has, but especially after what happened. With the Lonely and such.

“Do you want me to lie on you?” Martin asks. Jon likes that, but only sometimes. Martin’s not sure he really gets it. While Jon isn’t exactly a small man, even if he is downright skinny, Martin is, well, _large_. He can’t imagine his weight being pleasant on top of someone of a more average build.

“No, it isn’t what I need right now.” Jon replies.

Jon ends up mostly on top of Martin instead of the other way around. Martin isn’t sure that his chest is that comfortable a pillow, but Jon apparently disagrees. And Jon does his best to ensure that no overly boney bits of him dig in anywhere.

They stay like that for a few comfortable minutes, Martin scrolling through the feed on his phone and sharing any good memes or cat pictures with Jon, who seems to be tracing a complex design on his chest.

“So,” Martin says after a while, “massage. That’s a whole _thing_ , then?”

“I think you saw how much of a thing it was last night.” Jon mutters.

“Well, yeah…” Martin says. “But you also mentioned it the first time we had sex, something about not being able to get a professional massage without thoroughly embarrassing yourself.”

Jon’s little grunt says carry on.

“I think I want to know how far this carries? Like, do you want the occasional backrub, or is there something deeper we could explore, maybe with, I dunno, some sort of massage paraphernalia?”

“You don’t have to spend money on something just because I like it.” Jon says.

“Okay, first of all, we absolutely can. It’s okay to spend money on things that you enjoy. Second of all, I really got off on it too, so it wouldn’t be just for you. It would be for us. And thirdly, we buy kink stuff all the time. This is just another kink, and we should get supplies so we can do it properly.”

“Properly?” Jon says with a wry smile.

“Yes, properly!” Martin says. “With some nice oils and on an actual massage table.”

“I don’t think massage tables are exactly cheap.” Jon says, frowning. “I thought we were saving up to go on holiday.”

He’s probably right, but it’s hardly the first time they’ve spent money on things for sex. They’re not exactly small either, but the flat is big enough and they don’t really use the spare bedroom. Martin has vague plans about turning it into a home dungeon, and buying some sort of furniture would be a start.

“It’ll be cheaper if we don’t go abroad.” Martin points out.

“That desperate to go back to the safehouse?” Jon asks.

“If you like,” Martin says, “but I was thinking of the beach, maybe?”

Jon’s nose wrinkles. “I grew up a stone’s throw from the beach. That’s not a holiday to me.”

“What does sound good, then?”

Jon shrugs. “Something cultural, perhaps? A big city?”

Martin raps his fingers against Jon’s shoulder as he thinks. “What about a trip to Edinburgh? I’m sure we can afford that and a massage table.”

“Are you sure?” Jon asks.

“We can at least look. Maybe just get a headrest for you. And some oil. I bet it would be better with oil, although I think that means we can’t use a condom?” Martin says. 

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” Jon says.

“I’d rather we planned something together.” Martin says.

“Oh. _Oh_.” Jon says as he finally gets what Martin is angling towards. “You want to make a whole thing of this? Make it into a scene?” 

“Yeah, angling with a bit more roleplay.” Martin says. “Me as a masseuse and you a first time client.”

“And I try to seduce you?” Jon says. “You the irresistible masseuse?”

“I was thinking more that I would give you a massage that would be thoroughly inappropriate in a professional session, and insist that’s normally how it’s done.”

“Do elaborate?” Jon says.

“I apply some internal massage. In either or both of your holes, if you’re comfortable with a bit of anal. Maybe I tell you you look stressed and teach you how to use a personal massager? So you can, ah, _attend_ to your own needs between sessions.”

“Anal is fine.” Jon says. “Using toys is good too. Would we end up having sex - as in with your cock rather than a toy? I don’t see how that easily ties into the scene.”

“I’m sure I can get you begging for it.” Martin says. “Or maybe that’s my tip?”

“It could be.” Jon says. “But you’re right. If you turn me on enough I don’t think I’m going to be able to help beggin for you to fuck me, even if you’ve stuffed both my holes full with some toys.”

Martin’s hands clench at that image. The base of a plug nestled in his arse while his cunt is spread open on a fat toy. Which one would Jon even want him to replace?

“That’s…” Martin can’t really find the words to describe why his mouth has suddenly gone so dry. Jon looks up at him and laughs. “Anyway.”

“What should I wear?” Jon asks.

“Preferably nothing.” Martin replies instantly.

“For the scene, not in general.”

“I mean, you don’t really wear clothes?” Martin says. “I was planning on getting a towel to put over you.”

Jon takes a deep breath. “I have some very skimpy underwear.” He says after a while. “The sort of thing you could just pull to one side and…”

The hand tracing on Martin’s chest goes still. He gets that whatever underwear Jon is talking about, well, it probably wasn’t made with a male wearer in mind. Which makes this difficult. Jon’s usual underwear choice is a style of briefs that are very much unisex. Martin has seen him in them with and without a packer and they fit well either way.

“You don’t have to wear something feminine for me.” Martin says. “And you look best in nothing at all.” Although Martin’s own clothes is a close second.

Jon grunts. “They’re pretty. I like wearing them, sometimes. There’s an aesthetic to lingerie that I enjoy and I don’t think it’s fair that almost all of it is made for women.” Jon says. “If I have a body that fits some of it, and I’m okay with wearing it, why shouldn’t I?”

“I’d like it.” Martin says. “I’d find you sexy in a trash bag to be honest, but it would be hot. So long as you’re comfortable with it.”

“If I wasn’t, I would not have brought it up.” Jon says. “And male underwear has too much coverage to be good in a massage scene.”

“Speaking of the massage, how do you feel about me flipping you over?” Martin asks.

“I honestly can’t say until we do it.” Jon replies. “I don’t exactly have a weather forecast for how bad my dysphoria is day-to-day.”

“That would make life just too convenient.” Martin says.

Jon hums. “I’ll let you know how I feel on the day.” His usual answer. “Otherwise we just do it like we did last night.”

The conversation dies after that, the scene apparently planned enough, although they won’t really be able to act upon it until all the supplies are gathered. But Martin decides he can indulge Jon with more quiet downtime until the rumbling of either of their stomachs becomes audible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No conditioner lube here! It may be slippery, but it's not made for sticking up your arse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> -This chapter leans heavily into the massage therapist/masseur role play discussed in the last chapter.  
> -'Happy endings' are discussed  
> -Mild edging  
> -Anal and vaginal penetration  
> -Intended condom use goes awry because condom + oil does not equal happy time  
> -Jon asks Martin to come inside him (anally), which was not previously discussed. Jon later reveals no one has ever done that to him before and he was unsure how he'd react.

The massage oils arrive four days after Martin orders them. The table takes a little longer - they found one for a reasonable deal online, foldable so it won’t take up too much space when not in use and with decent reviews, so hopefully it will be sturdy enough to fuck on.

It arrives on a Saturday, and after putting the damn thing together, Martin decides it is stable enough for their intended use. Fun as it would be to immediately put it to use, they both agree that a massage would be more appreciated after a day of work, since Jon may have worked up some nasty knots during.

On Monday night, well Martin can read a room. He knows that Jon isn’t in the mood. Knows better than to ask, so he doesn’t. But on Tuesday, when they get home, Martin catches his hand and asks “tonight?”

Jon looks over at the closed door to the spare room. “Sure.” He says. He rolls his shoulders and Martin just knows they’re tight. “Tonight works.”

“You’re comfortable?” Martin asks. “I mean, uh, is there anywhere I should avoid touching?”

“I feel good, for today.” Jon says. “None of the usual spots are off limits and you can turn me onto my back.”

“Good to know. Thank you. Why don’t you take a shower while I set up?” Martin suggests, because Jon’s the kind of bastard who walks around barefoot at home and the soles of his feet often end up filthy.

“You don’t need help?” Jon asks.

“I’ll be fine and ready in say, twenty minutes. Or half an hour, if you prefer?” Martin says. He can’t say that Jon takes the world’s longest showers, but they’re certainly not the shortest either. And if they’re doing anal, then Jon may or may not have other bussiness to attend to in the bathroom.

Jon nods and he heads to the bathroom. A minute or so after that and Martin can hear the hiss of the shower running. He enters the spare bedroom and begins to set it up for the scene.

The first thing Martin does is turn on the space heater. It’s not cold enough yet to turn the heating on, but Jon could easily get cold in here mostly naked for his massage without it. There’s not a dozen blankets in here he can dive under if he gets cold, although   
Martin could wrap him in towels if it comes to that.

The new massage table is the centre-piece. Martin folds the legs out and locks them in place. He tries to rock the table after that, but it seems stable enough. There isn’t a bed in here - not yet at least - which means there’s no nightstand or other appropriate surface to store things on. Martin solves this problem by grabbing a side table from the living room (and dumping what was on it onto the coffee table to be dealt with later). That gets placed next to the massage table and Martin neatly arranges the oils on it.

Next he rummages through the toy bag for anything interesting.

This scene doesn’t really call for restraints, but there are other kinds of toys. Martin picks up a range of things that could be useful. At least one of them is advertised as a massage aid, but really he’s just looking for some things it might be fun to fill Jon’s various orifices with. He manages to cram several options into the box that was on top of the nightstand, although the lid won’t close after that. It will do to contain them while he massages Jon.

Lastly, Martin gets changed. He didn’t go out and buy a costume or a sort of professional outfit for this, although perhaps scrubs would add to the scene. Still, he does his best to look both comfortable and professional. A clean white shirt, short-sleeved to avoid oil splashing on the cuffs. A pair of slacks that are loose enough he can move in them. Professional-looking shoes.

A glance in the mirror says he looks good enough. He might not be wearing them for that much longer anyway. The spare room awaits. He busies himself straightening the towels which are already neatly stacked.

All of the hairs rise on the back of Martin’s arms and he stands stock still for a moment trying to place what’s changed. It’s quiet in the flat. The shower is off, has been for a couple of minutes - even the extractor fan is no longer running. That must be it. Jon must be nearly ready.

He walks to the spare room, paces anxiously while he waits for Jon. The knock on the door comes a few minutes later.

“Come in!” Martin calls.

The door opens slowly, Jon behind it. “I- hello.” He says. “I’m Jon, I, uh…”

“First time client?” Martin asks to put him out of his misery.

“Oh! Yes.” Jon says. He seems to relax a little more when it’s clear that Martin is going to be engaging in the roleplay. Martin would be surprised if Jon were actually bad at the acting part - he’s always been a bit of a drama queen, as much as he tries to hide it.

“I’m Martin. Blackwood.” Martin says. He walks over to shake Jon’s hand. “I believe I have you booked in for a full body massage today?”

“That is correct, Mr. Blackwood.” Jon says. He returns the handshake a little stiffly.

“Just Martin, please.” Martin says with one of his easy smiles.

“Of course.” Jon replies. “Martin. So, um, I’ve never… What do I do?”

“I shall leave the room while you undress to your comfort level. There’s um-” Martin flounders a moment when he realises there’s no particular place for Jon to place his clothing. “You can place your clothing here.” Jon’s eyebrows raise when Martin pats a spot on the spare set of drawers they keep in here, but he doesn’t say anything. “Once you are undressed, please take one of the towels provided to cover yourself - I shall reposition it as needed during the massage - and lie face down on the table. When you are ready, call me in.”

Jon nods, and Martin turns and leaves the room. Martin shuts the door on his way out and leans up against the wall beside it. He can hear the faint sounds of Jon undressing through the wall, the slight creak of the table as Jon climbs atop it. It all happens much more quickly than Martin expected, but then Jon didn’t have to fight his way out of a binder, and that’s always the slowest garment to get on or off.

“You can come back in.” Jon says. It isn’t shouted, but the volume of his words is raised to ensure Martin can hear him.

Martin walks back into the room. Jon is facedown on the table. It’s pretty much the perfect length for him - his head is cradled in the headrest and there’s an inch or so of extra table below his feet. Martin does a quick calculation and predicts that if he lay down there, his entire feet would be hanging off the end of the table and then some.

There’s a towel covering Jon from shoulder to knee. Martin knows what he’d find if he removed it. Or at least he has a guess, because Jon didn’t actually show him the underwear he was going to wear. But that’s all part of the game. He doesn’t get to see those until he’s earned it.

“So, are there any areas bothering you today?” Martin asks, because he genuinely is planning to give Jon a massage. He looked up some tutorials and everything. This isn’t going to be like the massage filter on pornhub where the ‘masseur’ strokes their client’s back and legs for five minutes before spending the rest of the session focussing on what’s between their legs.

“Upper back and neck.” Jon replies, as Martin expected. It’s where he carries the majority of his tension.

“Well, you’ve requested a full body massage, but I make sure to pay special attention to those areas.” Martin says as he scoops some coconut oil onto his hands to warm it up. They looked up which massage oil options could safely double as lube and coconut or sweet almond oil where the two obvious options. 

Jon picked out coconut, so that’s what Martin will use. Plus, it was easier to find at the supermarket. Not that they’re planning on using any of this for cooking.

He’s just got his hands nicely slicked up when Martin realises he hasn’t folded the towel down to reveal Jon’s back yet. Inwardly he sighs, but it was inevitable that the towel would be getting oily.

Martin folds the towel down to midback, mindful not to let too much of the coconut oil rub off on it. He stands alongside Jon and places his hands on either side of Jon’s spine, just below his neck.

Martin digs his thumbs in and Jon makes a pleased little hum. “Good?” Martin asks.

“Very.” Jon replies. 

Martin moves his hands down a fraction of an inch and pushes down into Jon’s muscle again. This time, Jon outright groans, or at least he starts to before he stifles the noise.

“Don’t be afraid to make some noise.” Martin tells him. “I like to know when I’m doing a good job.”

“Oh.” Jon says. “Okay.”

Admittedly, it’s half knowing that Jon’s enjoying it and half Martin wanting to hear those noises for other reasons. They’re very similar to the noises Jon makes when you press a finger gently to his clit.

Martin works his way down Jon’s back for a bit. There’s fewer knots than last time, but still a considerable amount. When he finds the first one, a little pea-sized lump of tense muscle, he presses a finger to it and makes little circles, increasing the pressure as he goes until it relents. It’s much easier to do with the coconut oil lubricating the way.

After that, Martin moves to stand in front of Jon. It would be an awkward position for a professional - or even just friends - if the headrest wasn’t there to allow Jon to look down instead of getting an eyeful of Martin’s crotch. Martin sets to work on Jon’s shoulders and neck. In this position he can slide his hands beneath Jon’s body to work on the front of his shoulders.

Jon groans again when Martin slides a hand beneath his shoulder to lift it a little and digs his other hand in where shoulder meets neck. It’s the same area that was bothering him the last time and Martin looked up the best way to relieve some of the tension there.

When he’s done there, Martin moves to do a bit more on the lower portions of Jon’s back. He has to fold the towel down some, until it’s just perched on the swell of Jon’s arse. The tiniest hint of white lace peaks out. When Martin rubs his hands into Jon’ s lower back he finds that there are some knots down here too and he eases them out. It would be easier to do the whole of Jon’s back in one go, but there are so many sore spots and the tutorial said not to focus on one area for too long to prevent it from being sore.

“Is your back feeling any better?” Martin asks. His hands are beginning to get sore and he takes a moment to try and rub the stiffness from them.

“Yes, thank you Martin.” Jon says.

“I’m going to move on to your arms now, then.” He says.

Martin starts that with a hand massage. Jon’s main problem may be his back and neck, but Martin’s also seen him rubbing at his hands when he’s done a lot of typing (or, on one memorable occasion, after Jon having a death grip on a vibrating wand that Martin had him press against his clit for a near half hour straight).

Jon doesn’t groan as Martin manipulates his hands, but he does sigh a little at it. When that’s done, Martin rubs up and down his arms for a bit, not entirely sure what to do. The tutorials he watched mostly focussed on the back. About halfway through, his hands stop gliding as well as they were and he has to take a moment to apply some more coconut oil to his hands. Most of the tutorials were also clear that it’s important to keep hands on the person you are massaging at all times so that the process feels less disjointed, but some sacrifices need to be made. The coconut oil has to be warmed in his hands to be properly liquidy. Sufficiently lubricated, Martin goes back to the massage. When he’s finished with the first arm, he moves on to do the second.

“Still comfortable?” Martin asks.

“With you, always.” Jon replies.

“I’m going to do your feet next, and your legs after that.” Martin tells Jon. 

Martin goes to stand at the foot of the massage bench, but he keeps a hand on Jon as he goes. It’s just a light touch, and he can see the goosebumps rise in its wake.

Jon makes noise while Martin works on his feet, so it must have been one of the days where Jon spent more time away from his desk than at it. That tracks. Martin does vaguely recall seeing him go in and out of document storage several times, and he thinks Jon may have been in Artifact storage at one point today, because Martin made him a cup of tea mid-afternoon and Jon was nowhere to be found in the Archives.

Martin’s hands slide up Jon’s ankles, spend some time working over his calves, before edging higher. The bench isn’t wide enough for Jon to really get his legs spread, but they do fall further apart as Martin gets higher up. When he reaches mid-thigh, Martin has to stop and fold the towel up, then again as he approaches Jon’s arse, the towel ending up precariously balanced on Jon’s glutes.

Jon shifts slightly and the whole bundle topples off him. “Oops.” He says ”Are you going to pick that up?”

It takes Martin a moment to come up with his answer, because he’s too entranced with the full view now on offer. He’d seen hints of the promised underwear before, of course, but that’s not the same as Jon laid mostly bare. Martin doesn’t know enough about what he supposes must be called women’s underwear to name the cut that Jon is wearing, but the waistband is a wide teal swatch trimmed with white lace while the back of the garment is narrow enough to disappear into Jon’s crack.

“Perhaps,” Martin says through dry lips, “we can do away with the farce of this towel now.”

Jon doesn’t say anything in reply, so Martin folds it neatly and places it out of the way. He reapplies a little coconut oil to his hands and warms it, then he’s ready to get his hands on Jon again.

He puts a hand down on each of Jon’s cheeks, massages into them until Jon groans. He spreads the globes of Jon’s arse to find the sliver of fabric between them. It could never hope to properly cover Jon. The strangest thing keeps happening as Martin maps every part of Jon’s arse - no matter what he does, his fingers keep sliding underneath Jon’s panties. Could be chalked up to luck or skin-hunger both.

It’s easy enough to get his fingers under the thin band that runs from between Jon’s legs up to the waistband. It’s easier still to move it aside so that he can see the tight pucker of Jon’s arsehole. Martin places his index and ring fingers a few scant centimeters either side of it and watches it flex as he rubs gently. He pauses. He really needs some sort of protection before going any further if he intends to stick this hand in any of Jon’s other orifices tonight. Which is something Martin fully intends to do.

Martin takes a moment away from Jon to pull on a glove. It’s easier than he thought - hazy memories of chemistry lessons at school remind him that putting gloves over wet skin is nigh on impossible, but over the oil they just glide. Martin grabs the little pot of coconut oil too. They’re going to need a fair bit of it for the next step and he makes sure to get a good smear of it over the tips of the gloves.

Jon starts when Martin places a fingertip to his hole, though whether that’s the cold or just a little shock is anyone’s guess.

“Okay?” Martin asks.

“Is this… normal?” Jon asks. “For a full body massage.”

“Of course.” Martin says, and he circles Jon’s rim with slowly increasing pressure until it yields and he slides in up to the first knuckle. Outside the bounds of roleplay, this is not the first time Martin has stuck something in him back here. Jon knows exactly how to take it.

“Sorry, I’ve never…”

“Never had a massage before, I know.” Martin says. “Or did you mean you’ve never had anything in here?”

He sinks his finger further into Jon, and Jon gasps. Martin can feel him clamp down, so he stops pushing.

“Either.” Jon says.

“Well, this is a normal part of a massage.” Martin says. “I do it with all my clients. Helps them relax. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes-” Jon’s confirmation bites off into a gasp as Martin twists his finger round.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Martin says. He begins a steady rhythm back and forth with his finger. Not fast, but enough for Jon to enjoy the drag of it.

“Uh, Martin?” Jon says.

“Everything okay?” Martin asks.

“Can you use proper lube for this?” Jon says. “It’s not painful or anything, but the oil is nowhere near as effective.”

“Sure, babe.” Martin says.

Martin wasn’t planning on removing his glove quite this fast, but applying actual lube on top of the coconut oil probably isn’t the best plan. He did see something like this coming ahead though, because there’s both spare gloves and lube on hand.

More appropriately attired in a lube-coated glove, Martin slips his fingers back into Jon. Honestly, he can’t feel the difference in friction, but if it matters to Jon then it’s important to do it right.

“Better?” Martin asks. “Does it feel good when I play with your arse like this?”

“I-I.” He breaks off into a gasp. “I like it.” Jon says. 

“I like it when someone plays with my arse too.” Martin says. “And I think this hole is just meant to have something pushed into it. You’re taking me so well, I think you can manage another finger.”

Jon moans in response, and his hips push up into Martin’s hand. When he pushes a second finger in, Jon takes it easily.

It’s an easy slide from thrusting his fingers to scissoring and beginning to open Jon up. When it comes, Jon takes a third finger with ease. His hips rise up to meet each thrust of Martin’s hand. It’s good to know that Jon is enjoying this, even if Martin knows he’ll get nowhere near to coming without some attention to his clit.

Jon whines when Martin withdraws his fingers, but he falls silent when Martin gets out the plug.

“Since you enjoyed that so much, I thought you might like to have something inside you while I massage your front.” Martin says.

“That’s bigger than your fingers.” Jon says, which is true, although not by much.

“You can take it.” Martin says. “You’ve been so good to me so far.” Jon’s silent for a moment more, so Martin asks “is that okay?”

“Okay. Green.” Jon says. They didn’t really talk about safewords, because this isn’t meant to be a scene where Jon says ‘stop’ but doesn’t mean it. But if he’s comfortable with using their regular safewords, Martin can roll with it. 

Martin coats the plug in lube, then moves it to prod at Jon’s arsehole. He lets his free hand, the ungloved one, stroke down the small of Jon’s back. “Stay nice and relaxed for me, like you were before.” He says.

He presses the plug in slowly, letting Jon get used to the stretch. It’s tempting to draw it back and forth, to fuck his partner with it, but that’s not what he’s going to do. Still, the flared base moves slightly back and forth as Jon clenches around the toy in him, feeling out how big it is.

Martin strips off the oily glove. “I’m ready for you to flip over. I’ll just step outside for a moment so that you can position some towels to your liking.”

“Oh, I don’t need any towels.” Jon says. Martin can hear him turning over, can see the warped reflection of him doing it in the window. “I’m fine.”

Martin turns around, let’s his eyes rake over Jon’s body. “You certainly are.”

“Mmm.” Jon hums. There’s a faint blush to his cheeks. “Your trousers look a little tight. I don’t mind if you want to take them off.”

It’s true. If the fabric of his trousers had more of a stretch to it, Martin’s boner would be pretty much impossible to hide. He thought he was mostly safe, uncomfortable as he is with his erection pushed up against his flies, but it must not be so if Jon can point it out like that.

“It really wouldn’t be professional.” Martin says.

“If you insist.” Jon says. “But I don’t mind if you change your mind.”

Martin stands behind Jon’s head and gives Jon’s shoulders some passing attention, but that isn’t the area his mind keeps drifting off to. Jon’s head tilts back as Martin moves up the column of his neck to rub gently at his jaw and forehead. But his eyeline remains focussed where it was before - the stark peaks of Jon’s nipples jutting up as Martin looks down the length of his body.

Martin walks round to the side of the table again. He rests his hands just beneath the swell of Jon’s breasts, his thumbs and index fingers spread wide in a mockery of a bra underwire.

“Are you comfortable with me touching your chest?” Martin asks.

“Yeah,” Jon says, “go for it.”

They’re as soft as normal when he touches them. The way Jon arcs his back into Martin’s touch probably isn’t entirely conscious, but it’s nice to see him relaxed enough that he doesn’t think about it. 

Jon makes a bitten back little noise when Martin rubs his fingers over his nipples. The way he pinches them afterwards has no place under the guise of a massage, but it still gets a good reaction. It doesn’t do to tempt fate, so Martin keeps his attention to Jon’s chest brief. Better to keep this in a place where they’re both enjoying it than risk focussing on this area until Jon gets uncomfortable.

Martin skims his hands over Jon’s stomach, but doesn’t stop to give it much attention. Partially because he’s got worthier pastures, but also because he finds the idea almost off-putting. It’s safe, he knows. He looked it up. But Martin himself would not be comfortable with someone paying prolonged and intent attention to his stomach. Maybe it’s not the same for Jon, but it’s still not something he wants to be on the other side of.

Jon’s thighs part naturally when Martin slides his hands down to Jon’s legs. He plants his feet on the table without prompting too, cants his hips up so Martin has a good angle.

Jon’s so wet that Martin’s pretty sure he can smell it.

But Martin doesn’t dive straight in. True, he’s already massaged Jon’s thighs, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do it again. He starts mid-way up Jon’s thighs, because who really has time to begin at the knees?

Jon makes needy noises as Martin’s hands travel slowly higher and higher. Eventually, Martin runs out of leg to touch, and this time Jon’s hips really do buck up. He lets his hands rest on either side of Jon’s vulva, just beyond the narrow border of his panties, right where his outer lips are plush and full.

“Martin, please…” Jon says.

Martin relents and touches his lover.

This is probably the warmest and softest part of Jon’s body, even through the sheer material. The only part of this area that isn’t soft is the hard protrusion of Jon’s clit, and when Martin runs two fingers either side of it, Jon groans. He’s already hard, but Martin supposes he has been teasing Jon for quite a while.

He keeps stroking over it for another couple of minutes, right until Jon can’t keep his hips still and his face is scrunched up in the way it does right before he comes. Then Martin stops.

It’s not to be cruel. Except for the ways in which it very much is. But in Martin’s opinion, Jon can suffer a tease.

Jon makes a frustrated noise that morphs its way to “Goddamn it, Martin!”

“Patience is a virtue.” Martin says. He nudges the panties to one side and slides a couple of fingers into Jon. There’s no resistance. “Or do I need to remind you of that?”

“Martin, if- oh. Oh _God_.”

Jon breaks off, because Martin’s careful probing inside his cunt has revealed the spot he was searching for. Once Martin’s found it, he latches on and keeps running the pads of his fingers over it again and again.

It’s a quick descent that Jon makes from turned on to truly desperate for it. But Martin knows that even this is unlikely to be enough to bring Jon off. So when he thinks Jon’s worked up enough for it, he swipes his thumb over Jon’s clit a couple of times.

Three might be enough to make him come, but Martin stops after two, withdrawing his fingers entirely this time.

“I am going to kill you.” Jon says, and though he sounds serious, Martin knows he doesn’t actually mean it.

“And that’s where these massages tend to wrap up.” Martin says.

Jon gapes at him. “Are you serious?” He asks.

“Unless you’re not satisfied?”

“Of course I’m not bloody satisfied!” Jon says. “I still haven’t come.”

“Ah,” Martin says “‘happy endings’ are not a conventional part of a massage. At least not at this establishment. A surprising number of my clients are uncomfortable with me watching them come.”

“Please…” Jon says.

“Well if you insist.” Martin says, and he slips his fingers back inside Jon.

Jon groans when Martin’s other hand comes down to play with his clit. He strokes a finger over one side of it, then the other. The massage table makes an almost alarming creak at the way Jon’s hips shift. This isn’t going to take long.

“You’re so desperate for it.” Martin says. “I bet if I’d just let you be, you’d be touching yourself before I’d even left the room.”

“I would, I would.” Jon says between gasps.

“No sense of decorum.” Martin says with a shake of his head and a sharp thrust of his fingers. “You’re such a slut.”

And that’s it. Jon goes tense and his cunt clenches down on Martin’s fingers as he comes.

Martin waits for Jon to come down from it. He wipes his slick fingers off on Jon’s thigh. In the aftermath, Jon just lays there, catching his breath. He doesn’t even bother to close his legs. That’s a good thing, because Martin’s nowhere near done with him yet.

“You carry a lot of tension.” Martin tells Jon.

“I do?” Jon says.

“Yes.” Martin replies. “You might benefit from relieving some of that tension between massage sessions. Now, it can be pretty difficult to massage yourself, but luckily there are some tools to help.”

“What sort of tools?” Jon asks.

“Have you come across one of these before?” Martin says.

There are toys in their arsenal that are officially labelled as ‘massage wands.’ The Hitachi is, for one. All of them are things that vibrate and can be used on numerous body parts, even if they spend the majority of time located on a very small section of the body. That is not the sort of toy that Martin is holding.

It’s far too phallic, for one. There’s a little off-shoot for clitoral stimulation too. It’s a pretty new toy, and one of their pricier ones too. There’s a separate remote because there’s no way to fit all the buttons on it onto the toy - there are several sets of controls: vibration speed and strength for both the main toy and the clitoral attachment, pulse settings, and a little dial that makes the tip spin around or thrust up and down.

“No?” Jon lies. They have already run an extended test run with it.

“Well, you use the remote to turn it on.” The toy buzzes to life in Martin’s hand. “And you can use it on any body part.”

Martin runs it over Jon’s shoulders, then decides his nipples are a much more appealing target. They harden nicely at the touch while Jon bites his bottom lip.

“Does it have multiple settings?” Jon asks. “I don’t like anything too complicated.”

“The remote is pretty easy to use.” Martin says. “There are several pulse patterns you can choose from, and a simple dial to control how strong the vibrations are.”

Martin turns it up slightly as he drags the toy down Jon’s stomach. He watches it flex in anticipation of what’s coming next. Jon doesn’t move, but he doesn't need to. He’s already nicely spread out for Martin.

“It’s nice and long, too.” Martin says while he slides it into Jon. He waits until the noises Jon makes abate. “Good for getting to all those hard to reach areas.”

Martin presses a few more buttons on the remote, setting the toy to thrust, and making sure that Jon’s clit has something vibrating against it too. With all the features it has, there’s not much Martin needs to do with the toy other than put it inside his boyfriend and turn it on. He keeps one hand down between Jon’s legs, just in case there’s a chance that greedy cunt relinquishes its grip on the toy, and leans over to kiss Jon.

It’s a surprisingly sweet kiss considering what he’s doing to Jon. But Martin can feel Jon smile against his lips when he doesn’t have to break away to gasp. It isn’t until Jon gets a little more desperate that he reaches up and tangles a hand into Martin’s hair.

Martin rewards him by turning the vibrator up a few notches and Jon nearly screams.

It doesn’t take long after that for Jon to come. He doesn’t announce it or anything, but Martin’s well versed by now in the reactions of Jon’s body and he knows what his boyfriend looks like, sounds like, when he comes.

Martin doesn’t relent after that, doesn’t remove the vibrator from where it’s nestled inside Jon’s body. He does pull away from Jon’s lips though, because he has other plans now.

“I do have one more appendage I can wield if you’re not satisfied with your massage yet.” Martin says.

He picks up one of Jon’s hands and moves it slowly to rest on top of the bulge in his trousers. Jon curls his fingers around the stiff length he finds there.

“I think I’d like that.” Jon says.

“You need to choose which toy I should remove.” Martin says. “Most of your holes are already full.”

“The plug.” Jon says. “I’m enjoying your ‘massage aid’ far too much.”

“Wait there, then.” Martin says.

Martin grabs the remote for the vibrator and turns it down to its lowest settings. Jon complains at that, but Martin points out that if he felt less generous, he could turn it off entirely. That shuts Jon up pretty quick. Honestly, he only did it so that Jon couldn’t come again quickly before Martin gets inside him - Jon has stamina, true, but the more orgasms he has, the closer to ‘too much’ it all becomes and Martin would like to starve of oversensitivity until after Jon’s be thoroughly fucked.

He grabs another glove and a condom and finds the lube. He may have stretched Jon out a bit earlier, but the girth of the plug in Jon is nowhere near what Martin is going to shove in him.

Jon moans as Martin eases the plug out of him. Martin replaces it with a couple of fingers. Jon is a little of the way opened up, but not enough that Martin would be able to take him without a bit of a sting. He sets to work opening Jon up, the sensation a little stranger now because he can feel the outline and vibrations of the toy in Jon’s cunt.

“Are you ready?” Martin asks some time later, when Jon’s loosened up some. He’s already slipping off the glove and reaching for the condom.

“Yes, but I’m covered in coconut oil, so you can’t use that condom.”

“I can’t?” Martin says.

“Oils break down condoms, and you did get some inside me. Ergo, that condom will probably break.” Jon takes a deep breath. “You can come inside.”

“Are you sure?”

“S’not my cunt, is it?”

“Oh.” Martin says. He’s suddenly struck by a possessive streak. There aren’t enough parts of him that can touch Jon. It’s a sin that they’re not living inside the same skin.

Jon laughs lightly at Martin’s heavy breathing and the hand that comes to grip one of his thighs tightly. “ _Fuck me_ , Martin.” He says.

That doesn’t help the want go down any. Jon looks at him invitingly from his perch, but as Martin tries to calculate how to assail the massage table, he realises that this isn’t going to work. It isn’t that the table is _that_ rickety, but it is pretty narrow. Narrow enough that he’d struggle to fuck Jon on it.

Jon must see, or perhaps even See, the dilemma. He twists over onto his stomach and slides himself so that his legs hang off the edge of the table. His feet only just brush the floor, but it leaves his hips at the right height that Martin doesn’t have to crouch when he slides home into Jon.

To reward Jon for his quick thinking, Martin presses a few buttons on the remote, turning the vibrations up. That way, neither of them are going to last that long. Martin can tell Jon’s arousal level goes from ‘gentle simmer’ to ‘close’ pretty quickly with that attention, and then it’s just a race to see who can come first.

Martin fucks into Jon with abandon. He’s tight and warm around Martin’s cock, and the vibrations echoing through from his cunt are very pleasant indeed. He spent so long neglecting his own arousal while he took care of Jon that it’s an agony to not just come straight away.

But it’s Jon who tumbles over the edge first. His legs spasm as he comes, coming close to kicking Martin. That probably wouldn’t stop him though. A few seconds later, Jon removes the vibrator from his cunt.

“Okay?” Martin asks. It takes effort, but he holds his hips still.

“Just sensitive.” Jon says. “And I’m not greedy enough for a fourth orgasm.”

“It’s not _greedy_.” Martin says. If he had the ability to come as many times in a row that Jon can, he’d scarcely wear clothes or get out of bed.

Jon snorts. “Why have you stopped?” He asks.

“I thought-” 

“You can keep going.” Jon says, and that’s all the permission Martin needs. It takes less than a dozen thrusts before he’s spilling inside Jon.

Afterwards, once Martin’s softened and slipped out, Jon shifts to sit on the table with his legs hanging off the edge. He pulls Martin in to hug him tightly, although from this height, Jon really has to crane his neck to bury his head in Martin’s chest, but he does it all the same.

“I love you.” Jon says.

“That good, huh?”

“Shush.” Jon says. “Being good at the sex is not what makes me love people. Love you.”

“But I am ‘good at the sex’?”

“Shut up.” Jon says. “Just shut it.”

“You’re okay though?” Martin asks. “After I came in-”

“No one’s ever done that before.” Jon says.

“What, creampied you in the arse?” Martin says. “Is it okay?”

Jon hums as he contemplates it. “Don’t think it’s as bad as when you do it in the cunt.” He says. “Full assessment pending, but I feel more than fine right now.”

When Jon finally lets him go, there’s oily smudges across every part of Martin’s clothing that he touched. It’s not awful, but it’s certainly noticeable. Hopefully it will come out in the wash.

“Jesus, Jon!” Martin says.

“What?”

“You are a greasy little man right now.”

“Shower?” Jon suggests.

“Either that or I try and buff the bathroom floor with you.”

“So, does this massage come with a bit where the masseur gets in the shower with me afterwards and washes all the oil off my body?” Jon asks.

“You know what, I think it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: condoms are not compatible with any kind of oil-based lube. This includes products intended as lube, as well as natural oils, and most lotions (and also products such as lip salves). The oil degrades and can even dissolve the material of the condom, making it much more likely to break.


End file.
